


Abnormal

by Author_021



Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club, Normal Boots
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy AU, ILL CONTINUE THIS IF I FIND A WAY TO WRITE OUT TWO OF THE MAJOR CHARACTERS ANDBLANSBEKW RIP, M/M, Magic, Normal Boots Boys, Other, The Gangs All Here, i hope i finish this, i’ll tag characters as they show up, jared really did my fanfic career dirty what a loser, not really Asagao Based but, other characters are here too!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17321009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_021/pseuds/Author_021
Summary: The world is crumbling. A force of nature is taking its revenge.Only Austin can save them now.





	1. A Royal Visitation

**Author's Note:**

> Oops new story. I kinda sorta uh gaveuponglorifiedoops but that’s okay, I’ve got this now!!
> 
> I’ve been designing this story and everyone in it for a while now, and i decided to just bite the bullet and start it. This is a fantasy setting, and the characters are almost entirely based on their real counterparts. Not sure if i’m going to do relationships??? Probably, but we’ll see.

“Come on, Austin!”

Jeff’s voice rang out, clear as day from where he was mounted on his horse farther down the path. Austin, caught off guard by his friend’s call, quickly squeezed his legs to get his horse into a gentle trot. Azura’s gate made a soft  _ clip clop clip clop  _ down the trail as Austin moved quickly from his post.

His partner was waiting just where he’d expected, turned sideways perpendicular to the path. Jeff’s large, white stallion seemed to huff at Austin’s approach, who just gave a big smile as he slowed to a halt. 

“Sorry, got a bit distracted by the wildlife,” he chuckled, falling into a walk as Jeff turned back down the path. The other knight just rolled his eyes.

“If you’re going to be a patrol guard, you can’t just look at every deer you pass,” Jeff teased, clicking his stirrup with Austin’s playfully. “Especially not when we have a post to return to by sunset. You know how important tonight is for our king.”

Austin just shrugged, getting an impatient tug from Azura on his reins. “It was a pretty cool creature though, dude. I’m not even sure what it was!” He placed both leather reins in his right hand, using his other to make wild gesticulations as he spoke. “It had  _ huge  _ cream spots, but its main fur was like, the same color as the trees. And these giant paws, they almost looked like, uh, like tiger feet. But its body didn’t  _ look  _ like a cat. And it had these big ol’ teeth-” he placed a finger in his cheek and pulled back the skin as if to show off his molars. “-and, the weirdest part? Wanna guess?”

“I dunno, Austin, did it have two heads and call itself Steven?”

“Close, actually, it had these two  _ giant tails _ -”

“You’re lying, dude,” Jeff laughed, spurring Austin’s calf as he tapped to speed up his horse’s walk to pull ahead. “There’s nothing magical in these woods, you know it.

Austin huffed, kicking Azura to match Jeff’s pace. “Well, of course, I know there  _ shouldn’t  _ be, but there are, I swear! Remember that owl I saw with the-”

“The wings the color of emeralds, yes, I remember,” Jeff picked up a trot as the path widened. “Or how about the snake with the glowing tail and four eyes? That’s a fun story.”

“They aren’t stories!” Austin whined, speeding up to pass Jeff. The path had opened from the forest into a field, lined with stone statues and pillars as it wound up the slope towards the castle walls. “I’m telling you, Jeff. There’s magic in those woods, I can feel it.”

Jeff just laughed, shifting gracefully into a smooth canter as he sped past Austin, who quickly matched pace. “All I can sense is us getting our asses beat by Jack if we don’t get to our posts before the ceremony!” he joked, pushing his calves into his horse’s sides until he fell into a rhythm, leading Austin up to the open castle gates before coming to a walk suddenly. Austin struggled a bit more to get Azura to stop- she was still a bit green in comparison to Luka- but the two cavalrymen fell into step next to each other. As they moved, the sea of citizens parted for them on their way towards the main castle.

“You think we’ll have to deal with any wackos like last year?” Jeff asked, head on a swivel as he scanned the heads amongst the crowd. 

“The Royal Visitation always draws the crazies out to the castle. I just hope we don't have any more streakers this year, those are the worst ones.”

Jeff snorted, adjusting the hem of his helmet with mild embarrassment. “You mean you  _ don’t  _ like having to tackle naked men trying to get a moment of fame in front of our king? That’s the best part.”

Austin smiled, sliding his feet from the stirrups as they escaped the crowd, the pair making their way down the final expanse of pathway towards the castle’s courtyard. Jeff mirrored him, the two chatting as their feet swayed gently with their horse’s footsteps. Austin’s sword, long and curved, shook faintly in his belt, and his boots seemed to breathe at the sudden release of pressure in his heels.

The town behind them still bustled with life, active at the promise of the king opening his doors to the public. It was a dangerous day of the year, sure, but it kept town morale high, and brought about a lot of business for the local shops. Plus, it assured the people their rulers were in good health, and it gave Austin an opportunity to check on his family outside the castle walls. McJones, distant in all his travels across the continent, always returned for the Royal Visitation.

The royal family had always chosen to stay hidden from the people as much as possible. They didn’t used to, not when Austin’s parents were young. His mom told him stories of golden carriages and horses as white as the snow that falls on North Yothire, of a queen in crimson red robes who used to parade, stall to stall, offering up a smile.

That is until Queen Mariane was killed on Summer’s Dawn 45 years ago.

King Felix came into power, still so young to be a ruler, and he made the decision to keep the royal family as far away from the people as he could. The killer never came to justice, and Austin assumed the King was haunted by the reminder they were still out there. The day of Summer’s Dawn was now a day of mourning; knights rode black horses like pitch black shadows down the street.

That was one of his jobs now, to ride Azura down abandoned streets left baren by grief. Azura was perfect for it, tall, opposing, with broad thundering footsteps. Jeff said they sounded like gongs.

King Felix began the Royal Visitation a few years after the Queen’s murder, and it quickly came to replace the Summer’s Dawn as the town’s day of celebration. It marked the day Sir Joseph, the heir to the throne, was born, and the town decorated itself in bright colors and music for the occasion.

“I wish we’d had time to decorate Luka’s bridle,” Jeff sighed, head turning to follow another knight trot down the path towards town. He rode a short, tan horse, her bridle decorated in bright red and blue ribbons. Jeff’s tack was almost completely barren, spare for a new bright white saddle pad embroidered with red roses, something Austin had lent him last-minute. “He looks kinda lame.”

“You two are  _ super  _ late, you know that right?” a voice hollered from up ahead. Standing on-guard at the entrance to the courtyard, arms folded, was a man in a matching uniform to Austin and Jeff, though the sharp triangular collar and tall leather boots seemed far more imposing on him. 

Jeff sat up straight in his saddle at the call, and Austin self-consciously put his feet back in the stirrups, heels down. “Sorry, Jack!” Jeff said, trotting the final distance to the open, guarded gateway. “Austin got distracted by some funky wildlife.”

“Again, Austin?” Jack sighed, his crop tapping aggressively against the side of his calf. Jeff dismounted swiftly, waiting for Austin to continue walking forward. He led Luka towards the stables, not noticing as Austin was stopped by Jack’s arm. “I moved your post. You’re on guard out back this time,” Jack commanded, smacking his arm and stepping back. “And no, Jeff isn’t going with you.”

“Come  _ on _ , man, you can’t just put me in the worst position  _ and  _ not let the only person I get along with come along!” 

“Maybe I’d consider it if you called me  _ commander  _ for once,” Jack teased, smacking Austin on the back with his whip before turning with finality. “And your girth is upside down!” he called as he walked away, disappearing behind the swinging wooden door to the armory, leaving Austin to huff away, following Jeff’s lead.

 

Being on post out back was undoubtedly to most mind-numbing job Austin could think of.

Nothing ever happened out on the back deck, facing the wide expanse of ocean for miles around. The waves crashing against the steep rocks below turned into white noise, and Austin groaned before sinking to the floor. He’d been out there for  _ hours _ .

At least, it felt like it.

He could hear the crowd like a murmur through the stone walls he faced, accompanied by the music of local bards. He was closest to the kitchen, but seeing that there were no doors leading directly inside, he couldn’t even pop in for something to eat.

The last time Austin had been assigned to watch boats lazily sway in the pitch-black water, he’d been a trainee alongside Jeff, and even then he’d had someone accompanying him. It was a painful solitude, with the knowledge he could have stood side-by-side with his best friend, talking happily about the various faces pushing around the ballroom taunting him until his head throbbed.

His uniform was already bothering him. The vest’s tall, sharp collar intruded on his attempts to curl up under the balcony walls until the celebration ended or until Jeff came to his rescue, and the boots forced him to keep his legs somewhat straight out in front of him. He was lucky to not have a helmet, though, which allowed him to comfortably press his head against the wet rock behind him.

His sword was loosely grasped in his right hand, placed on the floor, blade facing the castle. It was long, slightly curved, with gold embellishments along the guard. If Austin swung it hard enough, it made a  _ shwu-wu  _ sound that always made Jeff laugh.

Closing his eyes, Austin let the party’s commotion dissipate, choosing instead to focus on the gentle wind that blew across the left side of his face from the water. It smelled distinctly of the sea, salty and fresh, and even from where he was sitting, Austin could hear trees rustle impatiently from where they were rooted. Birds crowed from the castle’s upper balconies, the wood of ships creaked like floorboards, back and forth, back and forth, relentlessly in motion.

Austin’s anxiety was calmed by the serenity of it all. He was drowned out by the crashing of the tide. The castle, high up on the edge of a mountainous cliff, was berated with wave after wave,  he almost felt the vibrations that rippled through the stone beneath him.

Relieved of his nerves, Austin opened his eyes to the same sight of the castle’s barren walls, the birds and the trees and the ships and the waved fading away into the background.

But the shaking of the earth continued.

Austin jumped to his feet as the earth’s thunderous applause grew heavier, rattling his sword on the ground before he grabbed it firmly in his palm. He heard the music skip a beat, coming to a chaotic halt before dead silence took hold.

Austin stood impossibly still.

He couldn’t hear anything of what was going on, but as suddenly as the silence had come, it was destroyed. The sound of pounding against wood, followed by a violent tremor almost knocked Austin from his feet, and he found support in the wall behind him. The knocking crescendoed, and Austin, still frozen in place, heard people cry out from behind the walls of the castle.

But before Austin could run to help, his world began to collapse.

A shout of “ENOUGH!” reverberated from the heavens, and whether it was the voice’s strength or the same earthquakes from before, Austin was unsure, but the ground beneath him formed cracks as the walls he faced began to crumble. The tremor was ceaseless, the ground to Austin’s left falling away completely as the wall to his right began crashing down.

Austin was trapped.

He was going to die.

He felt nauseous, clambering up to sit on the wall behind him as more of the wall he faced fell away. The people inside were hollering and crying, and had Austin not been intently focussed on the dangerously shaking balcony beneath him, he would have smelled the distinctness of fire and ash.

Austin couldn’t wait for it to fall away. He’d be crushed. But there was nowhere to run, not in front of him, not to his left, not to his right-

…

__ The ocean was black as midnight, deep and terrifying. Austin braved a look over his shoulder down the steep drop, and he saw rocks clattering down the cliffside, splashing into a reflection of the night sky without a sound. Ships were ablaze already, frail and dry, and birds swarmed away down the coastline.

Austin was scared.

“I can’t-” he whispered, cut off by a rock from beneath him plummeting down into darkness. He had to, there was no question about it. Shakily standing on the railing’s edge, Austin kept his eyes focused on the castle wall for what felt like centuries, and his legs shook with the knowledge of what he had to do. 

He sheathed his sword.

“I’m sorry Jeff,” he apologized to the wind, and before he could second guess himself, Austin launched himself as far as he could into the open air.

As he plummeted, time almost seemed to freeze. His entire vision was filled with black, to the point that Austin was unsure whether his eyes were closed or if the night sky was about to swallow him whole. As if his leap was a trigger, the world behind him was hit with what seemed like an explosion, yet it was so much colder that Austin’s hands froze into fists.

He heard his universe crumble behind him, the balcony where he once stood falling away like a tower of cards, and Austin considered in passing whether Azura would be okay. She always hated thunderstorms.

The sky collided with him like a punch to the face, but it only took moments for Austin to register that  _ holy shit I’m alive  _ and  _ holy shit I’m going to drown _ . He kicked at the void around him, holding his breath even though his lungs seemed filled with water. Austin prayed he was swimming upwards, he couldn’t even be sure. The moon was shrouded in clouds and offered him no guidance.

Austin almost cried out in joy as his head surfaced the water, but his victory was cut short by a hollow cough from deep in his chest. His eyes were forced closed, unable to look up at the chaos above.

He fought to hold his breath and float, the thick vest offering a sort of buoyancy in the rough midnight tide. His whole body felt like ice, hardly aware as the debris created waves in the ocean, pushing him out and away from the dangers of the crashing cliffs.

Austin wasn’t sure how alive he really was anymore.

He couldn’t process any of what had just happened. Not yet. That needed time.

Austin just needed to stay alive.


	2. The Long Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title given by my editor:
> 
> "Pirates and Pendant ARR!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is in reference to the song "The Long Road" by Passenger.
> 
> Sorry this took so long to come out :,D I'm too much of a perfectionist and a procrastinator and those two do NOT mix well lol. But!! I shall continue this story if it kills me!!

Austin’s state of half-drowning gave him a lot of time to process.

That gentle swaying of the ocean lulled Austin into a feeling of semi-awareness. He became numb to the bitter burning of his legs where sharp debris had cut through his pants and into his skin, the thoughts in his head deafeningly loud. 

Should Austin be bold enough to open his eyes, he was treated to a clear view of his destroyed home growing distant as his body was tugged farther and farther from shore. The dense wood he hand gripped under his arms kept him easily buoyant, pulling him away from the constantly falling cliffside that once housed a grand castle.

Birds of prey circled the dead remains of Austin’s home, a few of them soaring gracefully to spin circles about his head in a taunt. They were black silhouettes against the harsh sun that burned his skin red, crying out their gritty songs all throughout the day. Austin tried once to imagine what had happened to all his friends and family, if Jack and Jeff had escaped the crashing ballroom, if Todd had hidden away in his blacksmith’s shop, if his parents had run when given the chance.

He still wasn’t sure what had happened both inside and outside the castle last night, but no one seemed to be left roaming out and about. The only movement up on the cliffs was the still shifting rocks clattering down into the ocean.

Austin thought a lot about how he was going to die out in the water. He considered that if a tree fell in the woods and didn’t make a sound, his last words would have equal impact on the deaf waves around him. His legs, though numb, still felt like shit, his boots not protecting his feet from the relentless salt water. Fish swam around his body, brushing up against him to hide within his shadow, afraid of the afternoon sun that forced Austin’s eyes closed.

There was no point in swimming back towards his home, he knew that. The docks had gone up in a blaze, burned to ash and effectively cutting off Austin from ever climbing back up the steep cliffside. The rest of the cliffs around him that formed the cove he floated slowly out of were equally steep, only ever descending to a reasonable level miles out in either direction.

Seacliff, so accurately named, was basically only accessible from its once extravagant port. The woods around the kingdom were dangerous, and the closest town by land was a multi-day travel, leaving Seacliff and it’s inhabitants effectively cut off from the world.

No one likely knew that Seacliff was destroyed, and even once they heard word of it, most people probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. The news had been under heavy fire recently for false reporting, forcing it on the decline, which wouldn’t make the news of Seacliff’s destruction spread even slower.

People also didn’t particularly like Seacliff. Not after the war. The other kingdoms would probably celebrate their downfall.

As noon passed, Austin became aware he was drifting slowly out of consciousness, and he didn’t resist it. The relief it brought to his throbbing headache was enough to force Austin to let his senses go, just barely awake enough to keep a tight grip on the wood that kept him above water.

 

Austin’s first thought when he woke up dry and warm was that he’d died. That he’d somehow lost grip of his floatation and drowned, or that maybe the blunt force trauma of hitting the water had finally caught up to him.

The pain in his legs and chest, however, told him that wasn’t the case.

Austin wasn’t entirely sure where he was or how long he’d been there, but it was warm, comfortable, and had the lovely scent of citrus, so he wasn’t really complaining. His boots were off, but it took far too much effort for him to open his eyes and look for them. 

There were people nearby, speaking just loud enough for Austin to hear them from wherever they were. Sometimes, Austin heard shuffling around him, but whether someone was actually there or if the sounds were all in his head he wasn’t sure.

It took him a long while to finally open his eyes.

He was in a ship. Austin had already pieced that together, of course, by the unrelenting sway around him, but the realization was enforced by the fully wooden interior and the stacks on stacks on  _ stacks  _ of crates around him.

It was a suffocating amount of crates.

He was also correct about there being a person in the room, though he got the number wrong. Two men were sat across from each other on opposing crates, looking through different stacks of papers. Austin watched one, a man in glasses and a knitted gray cap pulled over red hair, pass a few of his papers to the other, a larger, friendly looking man with light hair parted down the center, who took them with a smile.

The two seemed to be sorting silently, the rustling of papers explaining the sounds from before.

It was calm.

...and then it wasn’t.

From a door somewhere behind the wall of crates blocking Austin’s view, a loud, grating voice yelled out, “Get up losers, it’s break time! We’re playing a board game up o-”

“Heavens be, Emile, you’re gonna wake the poor fucker up!” the one with the hat cut the voice off, making a large, sweeping hand motion in Austin’s direction. “He’s probably got a headache as-is, without your voice cutting in.”

The other sitting man followed his companion’s gesture, and for the first time, made eye-contact with Austin. “Uh, well, doesn’t look like that’s a problem anymore,” he nodded, placing his papers to his side to heave himself to his feet. The other man jumped slightly, tucked the papers flush against the crates he’d been propped against, and followed suit.

The source of the yelling, apparently named Emile, appeared from behind the obstructive crates, looking between the other two in confusion before finally noticing Austin, still laid on his side across three of the crates. “Oh, haha, sorry about that!”

“Nice going, dumbass.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! You could have warned me-”

“You yelled right when you walked in!”

The fair-haired man had kneeled next to where Austin’s face was, still pressed to the crate beneath him. “Don’t mind those two, I’m sorry if we woke you,” he spoke with a smile, giving Austin just enough momentum to heave his body up a bit. The other man supported his shoulder on the way, moving Austin until he was sitting, hunched over, before he continued. “The name’s Tim, nice ta meetcha. That one there is Jon-”

“Pardon?” Jon reeled around, blinking before nervously tugging the edge of his hat over his ears. “Oh, yeah, name’s Jon.”

“And I’m Emile! Ah, sorry again, for the whole-” he made a vague gesture around his face. “-yelling. Ordeal.”

Austin just shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It was stiff with salt water, sticking up unnaturally on the right side of his face. “I’ve-” Austin was cut off by a raspy cough. “I’ve been awake. Just… tired.”

“Damn, you don’t sound like how I expected,” Jon tilted his head, leaning down to prop his hands on his knees. “I checked up on your legs, I hope you don’t mind. You were bleeding a bit, and your skin wasn’t in very good shape, but…” he reached out a hand, tugging on a tight bandage wrapped around Austin’s calf. He hadn’t even noticed it.

Now that he was looking, Austin  _ was  _ pretty beat up. His vest, boots, and gloves had been pulled off, and he saw them now hung up to dry on some sort of makeshift clothesline. His pants had been cuffed up to his knees, leaving his calves exposed to showcase a splatter of bruises down the skin. His left leg was tightly bandaged, the red tint of blood just barely showing through.

His knuckles were also bound, all the way down his palm and past his wrists. On his fingertips, he saw small, puffy splinters, calloused and torn to the point of looking raw. 

“I did my best to clean you up, sorry if it’s not the best,” Jon sighed, wincing as he glanced over Austin’s injuries. “Lucah stitched up your vest a bit too.”

“Wait, Lucah came down here? And I  _ missed it _ ?!” Emile whined, getting a playful shove from Jon that made him stumble away a few steps. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Tim said, keeping his voice low and calm. “What exactly… happened. To you. And Seacliff.”

Austin glanced at the other two in the room, bickering loudly a few feet away, before simply saying, “I don’t know.”

He was worried for a moment that Tim would push it, but he just nodded, gave Austin’s shoulder a hearty pat, and stood up. “Well, we’d be happy to get you somewhere safe. Not sure how familiar you are with the area, but we’re heading into port at Xasta. It’s still a big trek back to Seacliff along the coast, but there’s some good folks in that town.”

“Oh! Are you hungry?” Emile chimed in, ducking around Jon to crouch down near Austin’s face. He had happy, bubbly features that seemed to match his personality, with longer, greasy black hair falling over similarly colored eyes. When Austin got close, he noticed a prominent scar going from the man’s neck up to his jaw, already pale with age. “I hope you like fruit, ‘cause that’s about what we’ve got. Though, I could  _ probably  _ smuggle something special outta Lucah’s room if you promise not to tattle.”

“I’d like to see you try, Conroy,” a voice spoke up from behind Jon. Austin craned his neck around the frozen man in front of him to see the source.

It was a woman, dressed head to toe in an extravagantly dyed, layered outfit of purples, greens, and yellows. She had a comically large and stereotypical pirate’s hat on her head, a large white plume sticking out of the top. Bright red hair fell from underneath the cap, some of the front pieces pulled into small braids tied off in gold twine.

“Lucah! Uh, evening, captain! What can, uh, can I... “ Emile’s fake smile faltered at the woman’s glare, letting out a heavy sigh before running a hand through his hair. “Apologies, captain.”

Lucah just chuckled, stepping around Emile and pushing him aside to look down at Austin. She had a relaxed, playful air about her, bouncing on the heels of her boots before taking a knee in the same place Emile had just stood. “Glad to see you woke up alright. You feelin’ okay?”

Austin blinked, giving a small shrug as he rubbed the backs of his knuckles against his cheek. “Feel fine, I guess. Got a headache, and I’m…” he paused, locking his eyes on his sword a few feet away on the ground. “Just… in shock, I guess. Hard to process.”

The ship captain nodded, following Austin’s eyes and picking up his sword. It was unhooked from his belt, still in its sheath, and she pulled the blade out an inch. “I’m assumin’ you were a guard, with all this-” she gestured at Austin and his other stacked clothes. “-gettup. We didn’t find nobody else, ‘fraid to say, but maybe that’s a good thing. What’s your name?”

For some reason, Austin paused. His own name felt so incredibly foreign, like something he’d pulled, charred and bruised, from the ashes of a fire. It tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Austin.”

Lucah stood up, placing Austin’s sword in his lap carefully before giving him a nod. “Well,  _ Austin _ , I’ll get these three out of your hair. If you ever need anything- and I mean  _ anything _ \- just come see me. Three doors down the left, opposite side of the hall. Can’t miss it.”

Turning on her heel, the woman tilted her head towards the obstructed door, taking Jon’s hand as she walked out, not once looking back to check.

Emile blinked, scratched the back of his head, and turned to follow. He faltered for a moment, looking back at Austin with a much softer, mellow look, and gave him a smile before following Lucah.

“I know this is all… a lot,” Tim spoke, not quite in Austin’s direction, but aimed at him nonetheless. “And you probably feel a lot of things in your head, things you don’t really understand. I know I did when I lost… things, in the past. But the people here are nice folks, and we’ll try and get you somewhere safe and dry as best we can.”

Austin rubbed the heel of his hand into his temple, pushing at a throbbing headache he’d only just recognized, and gave a faint nod. “I ‘preciate it. I think I just…” Austin faded out, eyes focused on his sword balanced on the ends of his fingers. It was so light, so much lighter than he remembered, but his whole body ached with the weight it seemed to carry. “I’m gonna go home. Any way I can.”

Tim nodded again, hauling himself from where he’d kneeled to sit on the edge of the crates. He wasn’t there to stay, just to talk. “I… I lost my old town. Similar way to yours. Fire started out in the woods during a dry season and the whole thing just… when up in ash. It was so fast, we lost everything, and even though I was only a child I still  _ remember  _ it,” Tim sighed, folding his hands behind his head as he slouched over onto his knees. “Those disasters? Those flukes, those moments where the world falls apart? They stick with you. And they eat you alive cause you think  _ why? Why my home? _ ”

Austin’s hands felt weak and brittle as they gripped the sword tightly. He almost heard his own voice overlap Tim’s as he spoke words so close to what was in his head.

“But, man, let me tell you something,” Tim whispered, lifting his head to look him dead in the eyes. He was so full of emotion, and Austin felt Tim’s eyes scan his face sincerely before continuing. “Most of the time, there isn’t a  _ why _ . There’s no motive, no karma, no rhyme or reason, and I wish I’d known that sooner, man. It tore me apart when I was younger, trying to find that root cause and coming up blank.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Austin cut in, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the creaking wood of the crates. “Things don’t line up, and I have this deep-“ he reached a hand up to pat his chest over his heart, feeling a necklace under the fabric press into his skin. “-this  _ real  _ feeling that if I go back, I’ll find something. That I can help, and find out  _ why _ .”

“If you feel that way,” Tim said, rising to his feet with a shrug. “Do what you feel is right.”

Austin gave him a weak smile, looking back down at the blade as he spun it over and over in his hands. Tim started walking away, running a hand to smooth over Austin’s vest laid out on the crate as he passed. He faltered, listening as the sound of cheers and clapping echoed from the floorboards above.

“Just remember that not everything has an answer, Austin.”

And he stepped outside.

 

Austin had never actually  _ been  _ on a boat before.

It was a bizarre feeling, equally nauseating and soothing as he felt the ground beneath him sway in a consistent rhythm of  _ back, forth, back, forth _ . Over the two days he had to spend on board, he spent the grand majority of his time up on the top deck, sitting just beneath one of the dauntingly large masts that billowed overhead. 

Around him, the crew bustled about, making sure they were on track for Xanta. Emile, contrary to Austin’s prior belief, was one of the more competent crew members, balancing his time between manning the ropes and checking their direction.

Tim and Jon only ever came up on deck to relay information, take a break, or check on Austin, and they were always armed with binds of papers several inches thick. He tried to listen to Tim explain it once, but he got so lost that he ended up more confused than before.

Similarly, it seemed Lucah spent her time locked away in her office. On the morning of the second day, Lucah had invited him to sit in with her while the crew was too active to be on-deck, and he watched her write letters and trace maps in a rhythm that was clearly common to her. 

“I’m not much of a captain, at least not in the normal definition,” she said, carefully dragging her brush in a smooth line. A straight path in red ink feathered across an illustration of the ocean, from one landmass to another. “I don’t sit up by the wheel, yelling orders. I got someone else to do that for me. I just take care of the who and where.”

Austin scanned the stacks of hand-written documents along the edge of her large wooden desk. They framed the large piece of glass set into the middle of the surface, an array of candles placed underneath to illuminate her maps from below when necessary. “Seems like a lot of work.”

“It can be hell sometimes,” Lucah chuckled, setting her brush gently back into the inkpot. “But I enjoy it. I get to control who we trade with, which docks we sail into, what goods we bring along. I leave the legalities to Jon, and the numbers to Tim, so all I’ve got to worry about is sounding like a good opportunity to potential clients.”

“I was never good with numbers,” Austin spoke as if pulling that statement from deep in his memory, slow and thoughtful. He smiled a bit. “Dropped out of school when I was… heavens, like, 13? That sounds right. My brother wasn’t too happy about that one, but it meant I could enroll in the Knight’s Academy early.”

“ So you  _ are  _ a knight,” she nodded, standing up from her desk to begin pacing along the back wall of her office. She paused at the circular port window, tapping it gently with her knuckles. “I’d kind of assumed that was the case, either that or some sort of royalty, with that fancy vest and all. But I’ve never been to Seacliff, so I wasn’t sure.” She started walking towards the right side of the room, slowing as she passed the expansive bookshelves. She seemed to be scanning the spines, reading the titles.

“Cavalry, specifically. I was one of the patrol members, so I spent most of my time outside of the castle.”

“Explains the boots,” she muttered, just barely audible. As she passed it, Lucah slid a book from the shelf, cradling it in her hands before she started flipping through the pages aimlessly. “Well, at least you’ve got that going for ya. The path back to Seacliff from Xanta isn’t quite… the safest,” she pursed her lips, flipping the pages slowly backwards. “You’re probably going to need some help. Got any money on you?”

Austin blinked, a bit stunned, before patting around his pockets. He knew nothing was there- nothing was ever there- but was still disappointed to only find a spare button, a faded, folded photograph, and the locket tucked under his shirt. 

Lucah smiled, letting the book fall open. “Didn’t think so. Here,” she pulled something out from between the pages- a small, neatly-folded piece of paper. Tucking the book back on the shelf, she reached into a small box next to it, pulling a delicate, jewel-crested pin to rest in the palm of her hand. Turning back to Austin, Lucah grabbed his wrist, turning his hand face-up to place the two items into it. 

“What are-”

“There’s a large community of collectors that gather in Xanta. Find one willing to give you a ride and offer them the charm,” she explained, a determined look in her eyes. “That paper is a list of cities that I have connections in. If you get in any trouble, and I mean  _ any  _ trouble, find one of them.”

Austin was frozen, eyes glancing over the gifts in his hand. “I can’t take these.”

“Yes, you can,” she chuckled faintly, folding his fingers so his hand made a fist. She kept her hands closed tightly over his, her eye-contact unwavering. “I’ve heard your story from Jon. You have  _ so much  _ on your shoulders, Austin Hargrave.”

She let him go, taking a step back to place a hand on her desk. 

“I know,” he frowned, letting his hand fall to his side. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“And that’s why I want to help.”

Austin looked out the window. He couldn’t see the ocean, but the sky was soft with a gentle morning fog that blurred the clouds until their lines were invisible. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiled, turning her back so he was hunched over the papers on her desk. As she settled her hands on the edge, a loud holler resonated from outside the door, and as if on cue, the ship creaked and groaned beneath Austin’s feet. “Sounds like we made it,” Lucah said, raising her brush from its ink and holding it over the unfinished map stuck to her desk. A bright crimson drop fell, splashing on a seemingly random location along the coastline. It bled out into the paper, spreading as the ink settled into the fibers. 

“You should probably get going, hero. You’ve got a long journey ahead.”

Austin left without a word.

 

Xanta was a colorful place.

The buildings, bizarrely, were made of some sort of clay, painted in solid bright colors that decorated the sidewalks like a living painting. Similarly, colorful stalls of fruit, fabric, dyes, tools, and flowers lined the sidewalks, each vendor waving parcels that  _ clink clink clink _ -ed with the promise of a worthy purchase.

A stall selling newspapers was manned by a young boy- Austin assumed he was no older than eight- who held out newspapers to everyone who walked by. Austin watched from his seat on a bench directly across the busy road as he gathered small change from mothers passing by in exchange for the printed news.

Carts pulled by horses passed Austin in droves, hauling crates of goods back and forth from the crowded docks. He recognized some of the breeds- deep rusty Clydesdales and long-maned Shires were the most common- and kept track of the more distinct carts as they passed by.

Austin had stopped to sit down not long after stepping into Xanta’s main streets. His leg was killing him, still stiffly wrapped in bandages under his clothes, and his head was ringing with anxiety. He wasn’t used to this sort of crowd. Back in Seacliff, they only ever had crowded streets on special occasions, all of which Austin missed so he could stand guard up by the castle or outside the walls.

He stared down at the note in his hands, scanning the towns listed out and their corresponding addresses. _ Bellmoral, Unfrili, Rothstone, Padgin, Old Tyechester.  _ He recognized only two:  _ Questles  _ and  _ Vaelmouth _ , which both were settled on the only road out of Seacliff Austin had ever traveled.

No connections in Xanta, though.

After a while, the crowd thinned as lunchtime drew people into shops and homes, and Austin mustered up the courage to begin his scan of the caravans in town.

There weren’t many that seemed large enough to carry more than one person and their cargo. Horses tied to posts huffed at him as he passed, always disappointed when he saw a large, sturdy cart filled to the brim with materials. He walked down three long roads, losing hope in ever finding help with every building he passed.

Then he saw it.

A large canvas wagon, emptied of all its contents where it was parked in front of one of the many shops. Two large, heavy-looking horses were tied up a few feet away, where they ate from a trough placed underneath one of the store’s window sills. The cart was long, with well-crafted supports holding the wheels in place.

Problem was, Austin couldn’t see anyone nearby it could belong to. A few men sat out on a step eating lunch, but they obviously belonged to the building they were stationed in front of. Everyone else seemed to have abandoned this portion of the street.

Which left only one other place he could think of.

The store had a wooden carved sign hung above the door reading “Ian-tiques”, the meaning made clear by the strong smell of dust and age that hit Austin as he pushed open the door. His view was blocked by a large expanse of shelves that went almost all the way to the rafters, each decorated in intricate jewelry, well-kept furniture, journals, books, clothes, absolutely  _ anything  _ Austin could think of. Each was adorned with a small paper tag tied on with twine, the price written in lovely calligraphy on every single one.

Directly ahead of him, all the way at the end of one of the aisles, he saw who he assumed to be the owner, sitting on the counter with their back facing the front door. Whoever it was had quite long, brunette hair half-tied back in a ponytail. He could see a large, golden clip sticking out of it from where he stood.

As Austin approached, he heard the tail-end of someone else’s sentence, and suddenly noticed a hand grasped against the counter, with the rest of the person’s body out of view.

“-tellin’ you, Ian, it’s worth it! I got it straight from Jesse himself, it’s even engraved! You gotta believe me.”

“Last time I trusted you with something like this-” the shop owner, Ian, waved a leatherbound book towards the voice, giving Austin a clear view of the cover. It was written in a language he didn’t understand, but vaguely recognized as one belonging to the continent south of Ulasate. “-you swindled me out of two expensive rings for a comb you found in a fucking gutter.”

“I’m sorry, I was in a really rough spot!” the voice cried, stepping partially into view. The man Austin saw was broad, a full beard hiding the lower features of his face. He wore a loose navy suit jacket over a white shirt, a pair of burlap pants, and a bright yellow sash tied around his waist. The fabric of the sash was long enough to barely graze the floor. “This time of year is tough for me. I never get any clients down here, and there’s a whole trading operation going on up north that I can’t possibly compete with. And I’m just… I’m so  _ close  _ to finishing the collection, Ian!”

The shopkeeper rhythmically tapped the spine of the book against his palm, maintaining an intense stare with the other man in the room. “You should probably keep your voice down.”

“What, wh-“

“How can I help you, my man?” Ian swiveled his body to face Austin, placing the book down on the counter. He kept one hand planted firmly on top. “You have something to trade?”

Austin blinked, running a hand across the front of his vest to try and smooth it down. “Uh, maybe,” he said carefully, stepping forward so he was in full-view of the other man. He caught a glimpse of the intricate embroidery of his sash, done in a fine gold string that blended in with the yellow fabric. “I’m trying to… well, I need a ride.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. Tilting his head, he gestured at the larger man with a wave of his hand. His nails were painted jet black. “Jirard here could probably help ya,” he smiled, swinging back around to plant his feet on the other side of the counter. He waved the book in Jirard’s direction. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking  _ this  _ for damages.” Jirard opened his mouth in protest, taking a step forward to lean against the counter before Ian turned heel. “Take it, dude, I don’t need it,” he waved over his shoulder. “Just bring me something for MJ.”

Beaming, Jirard quickly dashed into a nearby aisle. As Ian walked through the swinging doors into the back, Jirard called out, “Thanks a bunch!”

“Whatever, dork.”

Austin took the moment of silence- well, silent as it could be with Jirard clambering through the shelves a few yards away- as an opportunity to look around the store. “Ian-tiques” seemed to be a hodgepodge of random items traded amongst the many merchants that travel in and out of Xanta. It was well maintained, especially in the aisle Austin chose to meander through, which was filled to the brim with cooking and eating utensils. He was particularly drawn to an old lunch bag hung on the wall, so well-worn and patched up that he could tell it had been passed down in a family. An embroidered patch depicting a sword an shield was stitched into the strap, the word  _ Rothstone  _ printed at the bottom.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Austin jumped as Jirard suddenly spoke up from behind him, reeling around to see the man giving him a friendly smile. The merchant extended his hand. “I’m Jirard Khalil, pleasures all mine.”

Austin blinked, slowly reaching a hand out to shake his. “Austin. Er, Hargrave. Austin Hargrave.”

“Well, Austin, what can I do for you?” Jirard shoved his hands into the waist of his sash, face still relentlessly friendly. Austin could feel himself on the edge of a smile. “Heard something about needing a ride?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a long story, but I, uh, need a ride home.”

“Friends ditch you here?”

“...Something like that.”

“Well,” Jirard shifted his weight, pulling something from his pocket that he bounced around in his hand. It was round and smooth, not flat enough to be any sort of pendant or locket, though too small to be a jewelry box. “I’m sure I could give you a ride if it’s on my way. Where’re you from?”

Austin ran a hand over the back of his neck, hiding an embarrassed smile by looking down to the floor. “Seacliff.”

Jirard just froze for a moment, looking down at the object in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. “Well, Austin, that’s a but, uhm,  _ out of my range _ , you see. Can’t really do that kind of thing for fr-“

“I-I can pay! I swear!” Austin cut him off, pulling out the pendant and extending his palm. “A, erm, friend, she gave me this. Said it might be able to get me… get me a r… Jirard?”

“I’ll do it,” Jirard beamed, taking the pendant out of Austin’s hand before he could resist. “I’ll do it ten times over, dude.”

Austin stared at his now empty hand, slowly looking up to meet Jirard’s gaze. “You sure?” 

“Positive,” Jirard chuckled, reaching up to shake Austin’s still-extended hand one more time. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he had a bright smile under the beard that made Austin feel comforted and safe. “It’s not too bad of a trick anyways. Oh! Come on, I’ll let you meet my horses!”

Jirard bounced away towards the front door, leaving Austin still standing in stunned silence as he processed. That was easy-  _ too  _ easy.

… What the fuck did Lucah _give him?_

Either way, Austin shrugged it off, backing down the aisle towards Jirard. He watched a cat jump its way around the rafters, landing with practiced ease on the countertops before leaping out of sight.

“You coming Austin?”

Austin paused, looping a finger around the chain of the necklace around his neck. It was still hidden, tucked under his shirt after all this time.

“Coming!”

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my peer editor Arushi!! Love u dearly bb


End file.
